With Brave Hearts
by BlackEyedGirl
Summary: Live as brave men and if fortune is adverse, front its blows with brave hearts. On the eve of graduation Hogwarts' brightest student contempates mortality and the nature of bravery.


Category: Friendship/General

Summary: On the brink of graduation Hogwarts' brightest student muses on bravery in general and the men in her life in particular 

Spoilers: PS - OOTP

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine but remains the exclusive property of J.K Rowling et al.

A/N: There's H/Hr here but it's pretty mild. Mostly it's just a Hermione POV drabble that popped into my insomnia-riddled brain. Not related to my Strange Empathy world but a similar Harry I would imagine. Hermione's morbidity, and overactive imagination are mine and I'm as concerned as you'll be. Unbetaed so apologies for any typos. Reviews are always welcomed. 

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_Live as brave men; and if fortune is adverse, front its blows with brave hearts. _

**_Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC)_**

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Hermione shivered slightly as Madam Hooch tried to assemble the Seventh Years for photos. One night in Sixth Year Harry had shown her and Ron the early Order photo and pointed out the few remaining members. Now, morbidly she wondered how many of the people gathered here would still be around ten years later. It was impossible to imagine that they would come from this unscathed. How many would be killed, or left in St Mungo's unable to remember what they had been fighting for? Voldemort had hung as a shadow over everything they had done these last two years. Theirs was the first year to be leaving with war openly acknowledged by the new Minister of Magic. Their year was the first to be leaving not for further study or comfortable careers but to channel their talents into the war effort. Even if it hadn't gained this distinction this year was still special. They were Harry's year. 

She paused to smile at her two best friends. Harry was teasing Ron at the other end of the room. From the gestures it appeared to be about Ron polishing his Prefect badge for the photos. She grinned as Harry waited until Ron turned away before surreptitiously wiping his own hard-won Head Boy badge.

These students seemed impossibly older than the years who had graduated before them, all touched in one way be Harry's presence among them. After all it was one thing to know that Voldemort killed, but it was something else entirely to be woken up by a friend who can't stop screaming because of it. Or to wake up at the end of your sixth year to see a crater where the forest used to be and know that one of your own had caused it. They had been forced to maturity beyond their years and looking around she couldn't decide whether to be wistful or hopeful.

Neville caught her eye and offered a nervous grin as he was pushed into position. It was Neville terrified as he was, who had walked up to Professor Snape at the end of the year and offered his assistance. To the other's disbelieving questions he had explained that Potions needed plants and he was the best at Herbology in the year. This statement came with no pride, just a quiet resignation. 

Then there was Ron, who had responded to her quiet "no" with a sigh and then an easy smile, "Tell him then". Ron who had finally used some of that chess player's logic and become Quidditch captain. Who on the last game of the season had walked up to congratulate Malfoy on a game well played. And before Malfoy could remember something of his dead father's conditioning, before he could dredge up some half-remembered insult, was stopped by a cautioning glare. "We have no tacticians. The Order needs us to do this and it needs us to get along." And it was to Ron that Draco offered an almost smile to as he moved into the picture.

Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati. All going into the Ministry in various roles.  Terry, Justin, Susan, Hannah. She gave quick smiles to everyone passing her, convincing herself that they were here. Right now they were all alive. Don't see corpses. Don't imagine the photo. Don't borrow trouble….

Then Harry walked past her, giving her a curious look as he steadied her shaking body. Harry who had went through sixth year like a ghost until the final week. Who had come to her and Ron's aid like an avenging angel, knowing it was a trap. Who had blasted away chunks of the forest to get to them, power radiating off him in waves. And once he got to them and Voldemort apparated away, leaving the Death Eaters to do his work, had called up the Aurors instead of chasing down Bellatrix. It was Harry who had this year finally accepted his fame, had let the mantle of leadership lie on his shoulders instead of petulantly shrugging it away. Who today walked along the High Table shaking hands with the Professors, exchanging a word with Snape that produced a quirk of the lips. Had said something to Professor McGonagall that made her quickly wipe her eyes, and spoke to the Headmaster with a quiet confidence. Harry who had the responsibility of speaking to the school and made a speech that roused applause from even the remaining Slytherins and had her smiling through her tears. Harry who had responded to her question with a "not yet", who refused to put her in the position of his mother, who felt the echoes of "Head Boy and Girl at Hogwarts in their time" were still too strong. Harry who had kissed her gently in promise that it would always be her. Harry who wrapped one arm around Ron and one around her as he smiled at the camera. 

Hermione turned to look at him and Ron. Then at the year-mates who went into the world knowing what their fates might be. The image of corpses came and went until all she saw was a throng of nearly-adults, faces touched with grim determination twinned with hope.

She looked at the camera and smiled.

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A/N 2: Well I was lying in bed thinking about my own end of school, which is this year. And then, as you do, drifted into ficland. So I was thinking about James era school leaving and the Order photo, and then I was hit by a plotbunny. But you know when you write something in your head in the middle of the night, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever written. And then you try and get it on screen and it doesn't come out anything like you imagined? Well this is it. It has…echoes of my half-asleep masterpiece drabble, but I assure you it was better in my head. That said I would love some reviews. It's my first HP attempt at what is effectively a dialogue-less piece. And my first attempt at a Hermione POV.  So if you would be so kind as to hit the little button down there?


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